Social Awkwardness at its Best

-

"So what do you like to do?" This 7th grader had to go to the nurse for some reason. And rather than inquire about that, I asked about his personal life. 

"I like to draw." His tone said he didn't want to keep talking but I kept at it. 

"Nice. Do you want to do that for a living?" 

"No," he said. No explanation. 

"Why not?" 

"I dunno. I think I'd rather just do it as a hobby." 

That was triggering for me. So I assured him he could probably find a way to do it for a living. And I think that triggered him so he said, "I think if I drew for a living I wouldn't like it as much." 

"That's a good point," I said, noting his tone was truly done with this convo. If I had really been concerned about him and his feelings, this would've been a perfect place to stop talking. But now I needed to understand his attitude and explore why this was making me uncomfortable. "Well what do you want to do for a career?" I did my best to hide a condescending tone of: wow way to give up on your dreams.

"I want to be an engineer." 

"Oh that's really cool," I lied. "Engineering is a really cool blend of drawing and architecture..." 

He grunted in agreement. It was all he had left, poor guy.

I coughed awkwardly and hit him with a "You got this." 

And he said, "Thanks" like I didn't really need or ask for the encouragement or this conversation. By that point we were at the nurse's office, and I dropped him off with her. 

I can only hope I learned from this. That poor kid will probably be dodging me in the hallways every chance he gets.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Anxiety & Depression

-
A therapist has diagnosed me with anxiety and depression as “mood disorders”, so my experience of these disorders is not serious enough to warrant medication or mild enough to do nothing. Cognitive behavioral therapy has been the most effective treatment to date, but perhaps talk therapy to unpack my past will be beneficial in the future. When I feel anxious, my neck tenses, and I can feel my heart beat like a drum in my chest. When depressed, there is a perpetual weight behind my eyes, not heavy enough to let me sleep and not light enough to let me find interest in things. When I experience both simultaneously, the opposing forces paralyze me. Some factors are built in my very nature. I see some genetic predispositions for anxiety and depression in myself and my family, and thyroid issues sometimes require medical care. Other factors are environmental. Growing up, there was one way to live out my spirituality, one way to live out my sexuality, and one way to be: Roman Catholic....
Read more

Xuân Hưong

-
Xuân Hưong might just be my new favorite soup spot. I ended up there like most sick people do, needing some hot, spicy soup to dissolve the phlegm. Okay that was gross.  I had two restaurant options. Lem's was right nextdoor and had higher reviews. But it had a chain feel. Bright neon lights out front. Special parking arrangements. And I began to sense that negative reviews for Xuân Hưong might be based on appearance. Xuân Hưong looked unassuming. One of the lights was knocked out. The building looked worn as if it was entirely made of drywall. But it looked homey. I trusted my gut and walked in. I waved at the waitress behind the counter and she grinned but looked down. Good. I like when they show respect but also have a bit of a "IDGAF" attitude. That's when you know the food will be good.  "I'd like to order to-go," I said.  "Menu?" she asked in broken English.  "Yes." I sat down with a spiral bound menu with four simple pages. App...
Read more

Friends with Benefits

-
Well how long will you fuck her? said Jeff.  As long as she'll let me, I guess, I said. I almost said I suppose but knew I'd only be saying that to sound more sophisticated. More in control. I took another sip of Bulleit.  So that's that huh. I detected a hint of judgment and an unspoken request for a redeeming reason. I could've said that we did have chemistry or  who knows where this might go . But that didn't feel honest. Really. So instead I stood up to get the bottle for a refill. He tapped his cigar butt while looking down. Jeff was sophisticated. At least he liked to think so. He did use beard oil. I purposely poured his whiskey too quickly and enjoyed his panicked DUDE.  Truthfully I felt a little bad fucking someone just because they allowed it. She was a placeholder for someone I actually wanted. And fucking her anyway felt. Wrong. But I had made myself clear. I see us just as friends, I'd said. And she'd still agreed to keep fucking me. So maybe w...
Read more